


I Taste You On My Lips

by brencer



Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Coming In Pants, Kissing, M/M, Making Out, The Pocky Game, handjob
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-15
Updated: 2014-10-15
Packaged: 2018-02-21 06:41:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2458541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brencer/pseuds/brencer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Play a game with me, Spencer Smith” Is what Brendon says to him when his guitar is missing a string and the only thing on TV is sappy Soap Operas. </p><p>  They’re in Brendon’s living room, Spencer’s staying the night so they’re going to get chinese,  and Brendon rented an old Godzilla movie for when they do, but right now there’s nothing to do and Brendon’s leg twitching is getting faster every second.</p><p>  Of course he would suggest a game.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Taste You On My Lips

**Author's Note:**

> I am trash, this is trash, someone slap me, this was meant to be fluff but i fucked up man i fuckign fuck ed up

  “Play a game with me, Spencer Smith” Is what Brendon says to him when his guitar is missing a string and the only thing on TV is sappy Soap Operas.

  They’re in Brendon’s living room, Spencer’s staying the night so they’re going to get chinese,  and Brendon rented an old Godzilla movie for when they do, but right now there’s nothing to do and Brendon’s leg twitching is getting faster every second.

  Of course he would suggest a game.

  Games with Brendon are usually loud and involve a lot of touching _from_ Brendon, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing, but Spencer being a teenager with crazed hormones _plus_ Brendon touching him aren’t really a good combination.

  “Please?” He whines.

  But Spencer can’t say no to that.

  “What game?” He sighs after a few minutes of Brendon batting his lashes and wobbling his lower lip. Brendon cheers.

  Somehow they end up on the floor, crosslegged, dead-straight across from each other. There’s about a foot of space between their knees, and if Spencer had known that _this_ would be what the game was like, he would’ve said No to that cute little face a million times plus one.

  His skin feels warm, like a light is being shined across his face. Brendon’s digging through his backpack and mumbling about something under his breath.

  Spencer asks “Why do we need to sit like this?” Right when Brendon retrieves the package he was looking for and yells out a triumphant “Yeah!” that Spencer could only compare to the sound Link makes when he swings his sword.

  It’s a small rectangle package, red bold white letters that read “Pocky”

  The name sounds familiar but Spencer just can’t place where he’s heard it from. Obviously, it’s a food-- in smaller print it says “CHOCOLATE COVERED BISCUIT STICKS” --so either it’s a game Spencer doesn’t know or Brendon plays a very different, kind of gross, version of Pickup-Sticks.

  “It’s an eating game.” Brendon smiles.

  “Sounds fun.” Spencer responds.

  Spencer only realises there’s more to the game when Brendon pulls one pack out of the box and his smile fades into a sheepish one. Spencer narrows his eyes, unsure, but curious to what this game is _actually_ about.

  “What are the rules?” There’s a hint of caution in his voice.

  The moment Brendon ducks his head, Spencer _knows_ there’s some shit up with this game. He reaches out and forcibly tilts Brendon’s head up with his thumb and pointer. There’s a high blush on Brendon’s skin, more so than usual.

  “Fuck, Brendon, what’s this fucking game about, you’re _blushing_. Is this like a ‘ _see how many sticks you can fit in your ass_ ’ kind of game?”

  Brendon bites his lip and stares straight at Spencer, “Kind of?” His voice cracks.

  Spencer stills. There’s _no way_ in hell he’s shoving chocolate covered stick-biscuits up his ass.

  “Please,” Spencer sits back, releasing Brendon’s chin, “Explain to me what the rules are, Brendon.”

  There’s a second of silence, Brendon staring at Spencer, before he’s fumbling with the box and opening the bag.

 “One person takes a stick of pocky,” He holds one up, “And sticks it between their teeth,” He does so, thus impairing his speaking, “Next, the other person-- you --takes the other end and puts it between _their_ teeth--”

  Spencer’s heart stops.

  “And the two have to eat the pocky.” He pulls the stick out, “The first one to chicken out loses.”

  Spencer swallows audibly.

  “Chicken out of doing what?”

  Brendon ducks his head once more, “Well- You can’t just keep leaning closer forever, you know? You have to hit..” He licks his lips, a nervous habit, “The other person, at some point.”

  Spencer doesn’t respond.

  That would mean kissing. That would mean kissing _Brendon_. Spencer Smith kissing Brendon Urie. That’s him, Spencer Smith, and he would be--

  Brendon cuts his thoughts off, “We don’t have to play”

  Okay, yeah, Spencer knows that. He could glare Brendon into submission any day, but now that Spencer knows he could be _kissing Brendon_ , he kind of wants to play this game.

  “No,” Spencer grabs Brendon’s wrist, fingers closed around the bone, before he can put the Pocky back in the box. Brendon stills and just _stares_ at Spencer’s fingers. Around his wrist. “I want to play”

  “Are-- Are you sure?”

  There’s no denying that Spencer’s blushing at that moment, and that he’ll be blushing even more after they’ve kissed, (if one doesn’t chicken). “Yeah.” His voice cracks on the last second so he clears his throat and tries again, “Yeah. I’m sure.”

  Brendon tugs his hand away from Spencer’s grip and places the bag in the gap between their legs, pulling a stick with him when he retrieves his hand. He looks nervous, his eyes keep darting from the candy to Spencer, and his leg is jiggling.

  Brendon holds the stick up to his mouth and places the chocolate covered end between his teeth. (Spencer rolls his eyes, of course Brendon would go for the more sugary end).

  The blush on his cheeks has tinted to a darker color, covering the littlest bit of his nose. He looks pretty cute in Spencer’s opinion, not that he’d ever tell Brendon that.

  Spencer leans forwards, hearing the sound of jeans shifting when Brendon’s fingers clench the material, and takes the plain end between his teeth. There’s still a few inches between them but they are definitely way closer than they were.

  Spencer can see the details of Brendon’s face, the freckles, the scar on his eyebrow. There’s a small crunch and Spencer’s reminded that they _are_ actually playing a game.

  He bites the end off and uses his bottom lip to keep the stick still while he gets more between his teeth. Brendon’s avoiding Spencer’s eyes, nibbling small pieces away. They keep biting, slowly getting closer, until their noses bump and suddenly Brendon’s not in front of him anymore.

  Spencer has a moment to register, Brendon’s not even in his _line of sight_ anymore.

  Brendon seems to have thrown himself sideways, knocking into his desk chair.

  “Fuck. _Fuck_ , sorry,” His chest is moving in quick little movements, up and down, in and out, shaky breaths.

  Brendon pushes himself up, sitting straight, the blush from before is still there piled along with extra of embarrassment from his little freakout.

  Spencer still has the Pocky stick, well, _half_ of it, in his mouth, at a slight angle from when Brendon tore off to the side.

  “Does this mean I win?” He asks.

  Brendon shakes his head, “Give me another chance, I didn’t mean to jerk away, I was just--”

  “I was gonna ask to play again anyways.”

  Brendon gives him a look.

  “It was a short game, what do you expect.” Spencer shrugs.

  “.. Okay.” Brendon scoots closer to Spencer, reaching down to grab another stick and placing it the same way between the two of them, again. He has more of game-face, Spencer would say. It’s kind of hilarious, his eyebrows are slightly scrunched and he’s kind of pouting.

  They’re back where they were only a few minutes before. Munching away. Brendon looks determined to win this time.

  Their noses brush against each other and Brendon sucks in a sharp breath but doesn’t move away, he keeps biting the stick, and so does Spencer. They’re slowly but surely getting closer and closer.

  There’s barely any Pocky left, Brendon’s still not pulling away.

  The first touch of Brendon’s lips almost makes _Spencer_ jerk away, and he’s pretty sure Brendon’s shaking slightly, but he still presses forwards. In a second, as much as there was, there’s just nothing. The pocky stick seems to be entirely gone, but then there’s something to take it’s place and Spencer doesn’t really know how to react.

  Brendon’s tongue slides wet and hot over Spencer’s lips, hands raising to cup Spencer’s face as his eyes slide shut and he presses forwards, kissing Spencer with all he’s got.

  Spencer’s fingers end up resting on Brendon’s hips, accidentally sliding under Brendon’s shirt when he rises to his knees and basically straddles Spencer.

  Brendon makes a small noise when Spencer’s fingers dig into the skin of his hips and immediately Spencer wants more. What other sounds can Brendon make?

  Spencer’s fingers slide up Brendons shirt, trailing up his skin and leaving goosebumps behind, making him shiver and attempt to press closer to Spencer, licking harder into his mouth and gasping when Spencer’s fingers drag over his chest, fingernails just barely grazing his nipples.

  Spencer presses forwards as much as he can without throwing Brendon off his lap, which ends with his lips pressed mainly onto Brendon’s bottom lip. Like a light, something goes off in Spencer’s head and he’s _sucking on Brendon’s lip_. Something he had never thought of doing before.

  As a response, Spencer would think Brendon might be a little confused, ( _‘lip-sucking’, sounds gross when you say it_ ), but instead he’s making more noises, little gasps and pants, and when Spencer’s teeth catch, he _moans_ , high and broken, closer to a whine, but _no, Spencer’s seen enough amatuer porn to classify that as a definite moan_.

  Brendon’s practically making grabby hands the entire time, trying to find different places to touch Spencer. Cupping Spencer’s face, buried in his hair, gripping his shirt, gripping his _biceps_. Spencer’s driving him _crazy_ just by sucking on his lip.

  After a moment, Spencer starts to get tentative, pressing soft little kisses to both of Brendon’s lips, heading right with each, until he’s kissing the corner of Brendon’s mouth, down down down. Brendon moans again and digs his fingers into Spencer’s arms when Spencer starts pressing open mouthed kisses on Brendon’s neck.

  “If you’re gonna give me a fucking hickey,” He gasps, “At least do it fucking _right_ ”

  And just like that, Brendon’s fingers are yanking Spencer’s head back by his hair, _hard_ , and Brendon’s pressing his lips right under Spencer’s jaw, sucking and biting at the skin, and _Spencer_ moans.

  There’s going to be a hickey and if his Mom sees she’ll be fucking _pissed_ and his Dad might too, but he also might clap a hand on Spencer’s shoulder with a proud smile and a thumbs up-- Spencer doesn’t even care, anyways, he’d endure any and all punishments his Mother gives him if it meant he could have this moment for the rest of his life.

  It takes him a second to exit his short lull into Brendon Urie fueled ecstasy and realise Brendon’s grinding his hips down against Spencer’s thigh, and also _hey, when did Brendon push him back to laying on the floor_.

  Brendon’s straddling Spencer’s right thigh and rutting against it like it’s the only thing that matters, which it kind of is, because, Spencer can feel Brendon’s _dick_ hard against his leg, and Brendon’s panting against Spencer’s neck.

  It’s the kind of moment that Spencer know’s he’ll be jerking off to for years to come.

  “Spencer,” Brendon says breathlessly, “ _Spencer_ ” His voice trails lower, dropping off into a noise that could make Spencer come if he thought about it enough.

  “Fuck, Brendon” Spencer says, and his own voice is lower than normal, riddled with the sex he hasn’t had yet. _Yet_.

  Brendon’s head drops forwards onto Spencer’s shoulder, breath coming out in short, rough, gasps.

  “You look so good,” Spencer can’t help himself, “And the sounds you’re making are so pretty. I want to hear what you sound like, B” He’s rambling, babbling nonsense, but it seems to be ‘ _helping_ ’ Brendon, so fuck all if he’s gonna stop. “Let me hear what you sound like” He tilts Brendon’s chin up and kisses him.

  One hand slides to Brendon’s ass, Spencer digs his fingers _hard_ into Brendon’s skin through his pants, and Brendon comes. Sounding like something heavenly as his hips jerk against Spencer’s thigh.

  Brendon’s practically shaking when he finally settles, gripping onto Spencer and just sliding his tongue lazily over Spencer’s. His hand falls lower and Spencer doesn’t actually register until Brendon’s fingers are fumbling over the zipper and his hands are-- finally --creeping past the waistband and _holy shit_ ,

  Brendon’s fingers are wrapped around Spencer’s cock- Brendon is _touching_ Spencer’s dick. Not over any clothes, Brendon’s hand is _touching Spencer’s dick_. Spencer could probably come from that fact alone. He doesn’t.

  It’s a sloppy handjob, no rhythm, it’s just Brendon moving his hand over Spencer’s dick, (not like any other is barely different), nothing fancy, but it’s still the hottest thing to ever happen to Spencer _ever_.

  Brendon presses a kiss under Spencer’s jaw from where he’s curled up against his chest, and bites the same spot a second later, and that’s it, Spencer comes, arching an inch and shifting his hips higher, inhaling shakily.

  “So pretty.” Brendon mumbles.

  It’s quiet in the room except for Spencer’s heavy breathing. He doesn’t know what comes after this.

  “Fuck.” Spencer says, because what else is there to say?

  “I think we crushed the Pocky.”

  Spencer laughs. “Okay,” He breathes, “Next time I’m picking the game we play.”

  Brendon makes a small _hmph_ -ing sound and curls up closer to Spencer, nuzzling his nose into the crook of Spencer’s neck. “Mine had a better ending.”

  It doesn’t feel awkward, like Spencer thought it might be. It feels nice, almost calming. _Right_.

  “You don’t know how my games go, Urie.”

  “As long as there’s lube and condoms, I’m game.”

  Spencer chokes on his breath and feels Brendon’s lips quirk up into a smile against his skin.

  “I think we should get some Chinese now” Brendon hums.

  Spencer can’t say he disapproves of after-orgasm Chinese food, in fact, it sounds heavenly. But he’s really, insanely tired, and he just wants to cuddle Brendon _a lot_.

  Brendon might be able to read minds, “We can eat then cuddle, okay?”, at least Spencer’s.

  Spencer sits up when Brendon crawls away to get cleaned up. His stomach is flipping when he thinks about what just happened, what it means.

  Brendon calls out to him, distracting him from his own thoughts, “What do you want?” He’s on the phone, his hair is messy and his lips are swollen and red, there’s just the faintest hint of orgasm giggliness glowing in his smile.

  Spencer might be fucked for Brendon Urie. He calls out his order while he tries to not think of every angsty teen romance movie ever.

  Brendon starts chatting off his own order to the person on the phone and Spencer glances to the side where Brendon’s backpack is strewn.

  There’s about six boxes of Pocky and one notepad that reads “ _step 1 of my seduction of spencer smith!!! play the pocky game! kiss his dumb stupid perfect face!_ ” “ _step 2 of my seduction of spencer smith!!!! there is no step two because step one obviously worked because i’m a genius_ ” and then it trails off into scribbles of stickmen holding hands and kissing.

  Maybe Spencer being fucked for Brendon isn’t such a bad thing.

  “Our food is being born, Smith.” Brendon smiles, wide and uncaring.

  Spencer smiles back. If this is what loving Brendon Urie is like then Spencer never wants it to end.


End file.
